As The Flames Grow Ever Higher
by PunkVampy
Summary: A short AND I MEAN SHORT little thing that I wrote about Sam's time in hell. There was a reason why Sam was so nervous right before he finally 'Let Lucifer in' Hell Fic, so if you dont like the idea, I honestly dont reccomend it ; ENJOY! REVIEWS ARE LOVED!


_**Ok. How to explain this little number…well…uh, remember that one episode at some point in Season 7. Where Sammy finally 'lets Lucifer in'. Yeah? Well this is a little thing that I dreamt up when I was in the park with my friend. It's basically about why Sam was particularly flinchy around Lucifer when he said Good Morning Vietnam. Sam in hell basically. This is probably the shortest thing I have ever posted on fanfic, but, my friend G says that it's worthy enough to see the white light of fanfic. **_

_**So, here you go, and uh, Enjoy!**_

_**Oh, and if you awesome people don't mind, Reviews would brighten up my day! :D**_

_**Punk **_

Fading in and out. Eyes opening and closing. Blood dripping. Souls screaming. Sam didn't know how long he had been there. 100, 200 years? However long it had really been, it felt like eternity had only just started.

Dean.

He needed Dean. His big brother.

"Big brothers here, Sammy, I'm gunna make it all better, You don't gotta be scared no more." That was what he used to say, whenever Sam was scared when he was little, whenever he awoke from nightmares, he would always remember arms pulling him up cuddling him close. And a soothing voice belonging to a 8,9,10 year old Dean saying those very words.

That was what he wanted to hear right now. Sam closed his aching eyes and tried to shut out his living nightmare. Lucifer's cage was just a desert. A desert with a torture slab. A slab that Sam had been chained to for centuries. He tried to blot out the sound of vultures shrieking as they waited for him to die. Again.

Sam tried to picture himself in the impala. Dean would be singing along to some random AC/DC song a little too loudly. Sam tried to imagine that they were on their way to a case. Because, in a weird little way, if you have it drilled into your skull from an early age, you actually start to enjoy hunting the Supernatural. No matter how many bumps and broken bones you get.

Sam lived for the hunt. Dean did too. No thanks to their Father. Deep down, Sam felt ashamed. His Dad had been in hell, ever since he had traded himself for Dean, way back in that hospital. Dean had been to hell. Traded his soul when Sam had been killed. Sam was pretty sure that the elder members of his family had taken it, all the torture, all the pain, with straight faces…well for the first few minutes anyway. But as soon as Lucifer twisted the knife into his side, as soon as he held the red hot poker to his leg, Sam was in tears. Every single goddamn day.

And there was no escape. Big brother couldn't make it better.

But yet he still imagined that he was in the car. He tried to push himself into imagining the smell of gunpowder, whiskey, leather seats and Dean's cheap aftershave. That was the smell of home. He thought about Bobby Singer. The closest thing to a Father he ever had. Even when his real Father was standing right next to him. The old drunk had always managed to find a way to make Dean and Sam smile, ever since they were little and only reached up to the older hunters knee caps.

He thought of Castiel. The blue eyed, trench coat wearing "I do not understand that reference" angel. His friend. His best friend. He tried to picture the angels face, and that damn head tilt he always seemed to do when he was confused about something. Which normally was most of the time. The blue eyes, and the smile. The smile. The rarest thing that Sam ever saw on the warrior of Heaven's face. But when he did smile…Sam didn't know how to phrase it without feeling incredibly corny. His face lit up like an angels.

Sam tried. He really did. And for a little while, it worked.

He escaped the pain and torement. For a little while at least. And, a small smile even spread its way across his chapped, brittle lips.

But then it all came crashing down around him. Those three, horrible, blood curdling words that seemed to make his whole form go cold with the knowledge that it was all going to start again.

The Torture.

The Pain

The Nightmare.

….The Hell.

Lucifer's words made the whole of hell itself shake. They made the souls in the pits scream louder, and they made Sam's heart shatter into a thousand unfixable pieces..

"GOOOOOD MORNING VIETNAM!"

Sam's screwed his eyes shut tightly.

_Dean…..please…. _

_Take me away from here…_

_Take me away from him…._

_Big brother….._

_Please…_

_**And even if I do end up in the darkest, deepest, most disgusting part of hell, It'll never take away my bloody dreams. – Gabriel Daily. **_


End file.
